The Monster's Wife(58)

“There’s something wrong with you, you ken?” He waved the knife. Cheese crumbs fell onto the floor. “Maybe you don’t have a mother or a father. Maybe you can’t get a man. But you shouldn’t be running round this island making trouble. Doing that’s a sure way to end up in the kirkyard with your Ma. Be better for it, maybe.”

“What is all this, Oona?” Granny’s voice was sharp with fear.

Oona pressed her shoulders into the wall. “Nothing.” The word was no more than a whisper.

Stuart leaned in closer, his spit spraying her nose and cheeks. “Now that I look at you near-to, you’re blue around the lips. It’s a wonder, really, that you’re still dragging those bones around and causing a fuss. May told me you’ve had a few bad turns. I bet it wouldn’t take more than a strong wind to knock you flat.”

The chair by the fire scraped back slowly over the floorboards. Oona heard it, knew that Granny was getting up to come check on her and prayed for her to stay where she was. Her heart stomped and it was hard to catch her breath. “I want you…out of here.”

“What did you say?” Grinning, he leaned in close.

“What’s happening there?” Granny came into view behind Stuart.

Stuart held up his hand. “Nothing to fear, Mrs Scollay. I only want to hear what Oona is saying.”

All she could do was sit still and listen to her own wheezing breath, feel the burning it made in her chest.

Inside, something cracked into pieces.

Stuart’s face was so close, she could see the roots of his eyelashes. She wanted to push him away, but didn’t have the strength. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembered peering through that window at Flett, seeing the Old Man beat Stuart’s purple-scarred back, the screams and boy-tears egging the beating on. She was glad no tears came for Stuart to see and laugh at. “I think…you were the jealous one…I think…you hurt her.”

“Shame you’ve got so much blather in you and barely a breath to say it with.” Stuart ran the knife between his fingers, seeming to relish the metal’s smoothness, before dropping it back on the cheese dish. “You act so prim, but you knew she was making a fool of me if anyone did. One of you so much as farted and the other knew.” He cracked his knuckles. “About to be my wife and she was dancing attendance on that doctor, making eyes at him behind my back, both of you after him and me in the dark. You were just laughing about it, weren’t you?”

Oona shook her head. It wouldn’t do any good to try speaking, not when the veins in his temples swelled and his fists were bunched. She closed her eyes, panting for air.

“Stuart, I think you should go home now.” Granny’s voice had changed to its scolding tone.

“I’ll be but a moment, Mrs Scollay.” He sounded like his charming old self.

“Aye well, I know what you boys get like when you’ve had a sup.”

“I’ve not touched a drop today.”

Oona opened her eyes. Something inside her pushed her to keep fighting him if it was the last thing she did. “Could you blame her if she preferred him to you? Victor’s a man of the world. And you’re what? Some fisherman living on an island. Nothing. Nobody. You blame him because you’re jealous of what he is. He’s done nothing except save lives. He’s a good man, more than you’ll ever be.”

“You can talk about being nobody!” Stuart reeled forward and grabbed Oona’s hair by the roots. He yanked her head to the side and smashed it into the table.

Stars of pain burst out in her cheek and lip. She tasted blood.

His fingers wound tighter in her hair. He jerked her head back until she thought her neck would snap and twisted it so she was facing him. She gasped for air. He watched her the way a stoat watches a chick, black pebble eyes sliding all over. His other hand closed round her throat, fingers probing for the place to squeeze. He pulled her up close, hand pressing hard, then he flung her into the wall.

Granny’s hand covered her mouth. Her eyes were rimed with tears. She took a step towards Stuart. Her paper-skinned fingers closed around his arm. “Don’t you hit her again.”

“Lucky I don’t hit you in her stead.”

“You leave us alone.” Granny gripped his arm. “All I need to do is shout loud and the Minister will come running.”

“Oh the Minister.” Stuart laughed. “That old loon will see to me, sure as eggs.”

Granny knelt at Oona’s side and clutched her hand. She smoothed the hair from Oona’s forehead. “You’ll be right as rain in a moment.”

Stuart kicked a chair and it cracked over onto its back. “You’re a fool if you say so. She won’t be right. She’s another year at best, less if she keeps on with the doctor. His number is surely up. We’ll all see to that, every one of us on this island.”

“Get out.” Tears streamed down Granny’s cheeks.

“Look at her. She can hardly breathe.”

“She’s got more spirit than you’ll ever ken.”

Stuart made a sucking noise deep in his throat, swilled his mouth a round and spat on the floor next to Oona’s head.

“I’ll pay my respects at the wake.”





51


It was hard to sit up straight and hot, even though the rain drove down outside. Eve slumped in the chair and let the man wrap the linen strips and pull them tight. She rested her head on her shoulder to watch him take a pin from his mouth and fasten a pale edge of bandage with it. Her skin didn’t feel as much pain as it had last night.